


Fantasies Come True

by lilacs (museicalitea)



Series: between the stars and the moon [2]
Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Pre-Ball, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museicalitea/pseuds/lilacs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's something about you. Something that's different to everyone else here… I don't know if they see just how extraordinary you are." </p><p>Love's not clear-cut for Alonzo. It's trial and error, and something he hasn't quite figured out, despite the prodding and pushing of certain curious cats. But there isn't a lot he won't do if it means Munkustrap might feel something back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Torrent of Rain

The night was darker than usual, probably thanks to the heavy rain that had started only that afternoon. Few people were about in the streets, and fewer animals in the alleys, all in the city hoping to avoid the torrential downpour.

All that is, except for a lone cat, running as quickly as he could through the streets, and if anyone could have heard him, swearing vehemently as he ran, most of his unnoticed curses directed towards – and yet drowned out by – the foul weather conditions. Many a time he slunk under dustbins or parked cars, shivering from the cold and wet and scowling at the weather in general.

Eventually, though, he reached his destination – a long alleyway that led down to the entrance of a junkyard; a junkyard that happened to be the cat’s home. Breathing a slight sigh of relief, the cat looked around, and then began to sprint down the cobblestones, not even slowing down as he crossed the threshold of the place. He stopped abruptly, however, when another cat leapt down from one of the small junk piles bordering the path, blocking his way. They looked at each other for a moment, conveying some kind of message with their eyes, and with a tilt of the head by the second cat and a confirming nod by the first, they made their way up the path, and into the heart of the junkyard, a large space free of junk piles their destination.

The two cats dashed across the main clearing, silhouettes against the pouring rain. Coming to an overhang at the far end of the clearing, they slowed down and stopped, panting and shaking the water from their fur. The lankier of the two leaned against a junk pile nearby, and said, sounding more than a little exasperated, “Well, that was a terrible homecoming. Yeesh, the weather’s really got something against me, hasn’t it?”

The taller one laughed, facing his friend. “It’s just a little rain.”

“A lot of rain’s more like it, Munk. Everlast, I had to deal with those tossers for two weeks –”

“Al!”

“– and now I come home, expecting decent company and all that comes with it, and instead, I get this blimming wind, and cold, and _rain_.”

Munkustrap snorted, smirking. “Be glad that decent company’s me and not Tugger – he wouldn’t have bothered coming out here once he saw the weather.”

Alonzo finally laughed, brushing more water off himself. “True. How’ve things been?” he asked.

“The usual,” Munkustrap shrugged. “Tumblebrutus and Pouncival are turning more like their brothers by the day, said brothers are making threats towards you if you do not go and see them as soon as it’s light tomorrow, and the other kittens have been asking after you about ten times a day.” He grinned at the semi-delighted, semi-confused look that appeared on Alonzo’s face at that statement. “Take it as a compliment. How were they?”

“Like I said: bunch of tossers,” Alonzo said, scowling. “That awful cat Ranian lives there now, did you know?”

Munkustrap grimaced. “Ah. Right. Your description of them makes a bit more sense now. Is he still –”

“An utter douche? Worse. He recognised me, and believe me, it wasn’t easy keeping myself from clawing at his stupid little –”

“Al!”

Alonzo breathed out slowly, releasing the tension that had built up in his shoulders. “Sorry. He irks me. And I haven’t been getting much sleep at night, either, so… no rest from the wicked.”

“You haven’t been sleeping?” Munkustrap echoed, concern crossing his face. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Alonzo said quickly, looking to change the subject. “Is anyone on watch at the moment, by the way? I didn’t see anyone as I came in.”

“Um… There should be… Oh no…” Munkustrap trailed off, looking down sheepishly.

Alonzo smirked. “I don’t believe this. The great Protector Munkustrap, who I do believe is the most organised cat in this tribe, forgetting to have someone on –”

“Shut up!” Munkustrap snapped. “I – I was distracted, alright? I knew you were coming back sometime this week, and so I just thought I’d do it instead.”

“Sometime this week? Munk, how much vaguer can you get? How many nights have you been up?”

 “I don’t know! Two, three, maybe?”

“Tell me it’s four and maybe I’ll believe you.”

“Five, you happy?”

“Yes. Goodnight, then,” Alonzo said, starting to move out into the rain.

“Wait,” Munkustrap said, catching Alonzo by the arm, and making him look at Munkustrap in surprise. “Where are you going?”

“Watch, where do you think I’m going?”

“I’d have hoped bed,” Munkustrap said, frowning. “Look, it’s pouring outside, and you’re tired. Don’t, Al,” he continued, as Alonzo rolled his eyes. “You’ve only just come back, you look beat and you’ve just been saying that you can’t sleep, plus you’ve had to deal with _Ranian_ of all cats, and I think you ought to –”

“Says the insomniac. Munkus, if anyone needs sleep, it’s you. Five nights? Even you have to admit that’s getting a little extreme.”

“You can’t – you’ve just been saying –”

“Munkustrap, might I just point out a fundamental difference between you and me? For the past _few_ nights, I haven’t – yikes. I _can’t_ sleep, temporarily. You _don’t_ sleep, _ever_. Since apparently no one’s on watch tonight, I’m taking it.” When Munkustrap made no move other than to raise an eyebrow pointedly in his direction, Alonzo sighed, then gave his friend a little shove in the chest. “Shoo. Go back to your den, or I’ll carry you there. Drag you, actually. _Go_.”

Smiling even as he shook his head, Munkustrap left, heading back into the pounding rain, and with a last look in the other cat’s direction, Alonzo did the same. After all, it was worth a little spat with Munkustrap to hear his voice again, and to try and ease his mind of the thoughts that had been plaguing it the past several nights. He had reassurance that his friends were safe and hale, he was back in his home, and life in the junkyard would go on as it ever had.

If he himself was still alive after a night in the accursed rain, of course.

Although, he thought, he could probably keep watch – which after all was hardly necessary most nights – just as well under the little overhang. And so he ducked back underneath it, and proceeded to do just that.

* * *

Alonzo yawned as he slumped into his den in the small hours of that morning. Though he had been loath to admit it to Munkustrap, taking the night watch had done no favours for his increasing tiredness, and he knew his presence would be expected by Admetus, August and Plato not much later that day after so long an absence.

The interior of his den looked very welcoming and comfortable, however, and without quite realising how he had done it, he found himself sitting leaning back against the wall, eyelids heavy. _An hour_ , he thought foggily, fighting to keep his eyes open. _I can sleep for an hour, and that’ll do me. Just an hour, and that’ll be… enough… I think… just… just one…_

***

He could feel a strange sensation on his head – a light pressure moving around his scalp, catching his headfur and twisting it round. It came to light that there was something behind him now that he was partially resting on, where there had not been anything at his falling asleep.

Falling asleep!

 _No_ , he thought to himself hazily. _I didn’t… not for long, anyway…_ He forced his eyes to open a little, and through the gap in his eyelids he could see bright sunlight outside – the sort that he associated with mid-afternoon, not a mere hour after sunrise.

He knew inside that he should be panicking, complete with shouting out a copious number of profanities, and that after that he ought to be trying to get awake properly, and getting outside and finding his friends, who had evidently made no secret of the fact that they had wanted to see him as soon as possible or else once he got back.

But he did not even try opening his eyes much more, for he felt very comfortable lying right where he was, thank you very much, and threats which would probably turn out to be idle in any case couldn’t really hurt him there with someone else behind him. Speaking of which…

Opening his eyes a fraction more, he glanced down, and saw below his head a silver leg, folded in front of its owner and acting as a pillow for his head. He closed his eyes again, confused beneath his sleep-wanting haze. What was Munkustrap doing in his den, seeing as he was just sleeping, and why hadn’t the Protector made any effort to wake him up?

And when the sensation that had brought him to waking mode in the first place started up again, it brought another question – why was Munkustrap fondling his headfur?

He would have pondered these internal queries further, perhaps even asked Munkustrap about them out loud, but the comforting motion and his own tiredness overcame him again, and he slipped back into slumber.

When he awoke again however, the next morning, feeling far more refreshed and slightly alarmed that he had slept for a full twenty-four hours, Munkustrap was gone. And somehow, he didn’t quite feel it would be appropriate to bring up the previous afternoon’s situation.

So he didn’t.


	2. It Stirs a Spark

_A week or so later, and the weather is cooperating once more…_

Alonzo had lost track of how long he had been sitting there, enjoying the pleasant – and now seemingly less erratic – weather, and enjoying solitude from cats that had barely given him breathing space over the past few days, so vigilant in their keeping of his company had they been.

Across the clearing, a flash of light caught his eye, and he sat up a little, alert. He sank back down again, however, when he saw its source – a piece of scrap metal reflecting the sun’s rays briefly before being tossed aside. Carefully tossed, he noted. Of course.

Watching Munkustrap sorting through the suspicious-looking junk piles, he felt a slight twinge of guilt at not getting up and helping him with it. He _had_ said that he would do it… Then again, he could always do it tomorrow. Or the day after that. Within the week, anyway.

His nagging conscience died away, though, as he continued to watch Munkustrap labouring. He was enraptured by the sight, and everything else seemed to fade out of vision as he became absorbed in silver glinting in the sunlight. It struck him that going over there might actually be a very good idea indeed – not to help with the work, but rather to distract Munkustrap from it – to latch onto him, feel the older tom’s fur beneath his fingers, and to never let him go…

“So, who’s the queen?”

Shocked out of his stupor, Alonzo realised that where he had previously been in solitude on the TSE1 hood, he was now surrounded by what looked like nearly every tom close to his age in the junkyard.

_What the?_

“Woah, woah, woah! What’re you – how did – where’d you all come from?” he yelped, eyes darting from cat to cat – all, he realised apprehensively, with lit up eyes and smiles suggesting that they were up to no good.

“Tugger called us here,” Plato responded promptly.

“Very urgent, you see,” Admetus added, no small hint of mirth in his voice.

“What – what’s so urgent about me?”

The brothers exchanged a glance, and then leaned in, wicked smiles forming on their faces.

“Code Moony Eyes.”

Alonzo hissed. “You don’t mean –”

“You’re – in –”

“ _Don’t_. Say. It,” Alonzo growled.

“Love,” Tugger finished, swaggering up to the patched tom with a large smirk on his face.

“I am not,” he said, the response automatic for times such as these.

“Oh, yes you are. I saw those eyes.”

“As did I,” Admetus added. “So, who’s the queen?”

“Where’s the queen?”

“What do you – hang on. Where _is_ the – where _are_ the queens?” The other toms all paused in their anticipative staring as they absorbed the latest comment.

“There aren’t any here.”

“He was ogling someone. I saw it.”

“Yes, I know, but who –”

“I wasn’t ogling,” Alonzo said desperately, promptly bringing on a flurry of comments against his statement.

“You were completely ogling... someone.”

“Trust me, I’ve seen ogling, I’ve _practised_ ogling, and you were ogling.”

“Ya have ta face facts sooner or later, mate.”

“Yeah, and it’s a damn sight easier when you don’t give us the ‘but I’m not in love with anyone’ –”

“But I really wasn’t!” Alonzo protested.

“Oh?” Tugger said, well-practiced eyebrow raised in a fashion that made him look even more domineering and regal than he already presented as. He held up a paw, and at once the other toms fell silent, all looking expectantly at Alonzo as Tugger leaned in closer. “Then what _were_ you doing?”

“…I was… thinking.”

“Thinking?” More eyebrows were raised at this statement.

“Yes. I was thinking… _about_ certain… queens.”

“Oh?” Tugger said again, narrowing his eyes slightly. “And who would these certain queens be, mm?”

Alonzo was (not for the first time in his life) beginning to feel more than a little annoyed with the curious tendencies of Deuteronomy’s middle son. That, and his mind was starting to go into panic mode, which he knew would not serve him well in dishing out some kind of smart retort. As he stood under Tugger’s baleful stare, frantically staring around for some kind of answer to his prying question, he caught sight of a familiar, and somehow forgotten about tom that now looked to be concealing himself from view of his elder brother. And it struck Alonzo that taking a Munkustrap-like approach to the problem at hand might well be the best way to solve it.

“That, Rum Tum Tugger, is none of your business.”

Tugger looked highly affronted at this statement and seemed about to reply, when Plato said, “Don’t bother, Tugger. Don’t think you’re gonna get much more out of him.”

With a frown and a slight huff, Tugger seemed to accept these words, turned around, and spoke over his shoulder. “Come on, lads. I think we’re done here. Alonzo.” And with a slight incline of his head, the Rum Tum Tugger turned tail and left the clearing, his shoulders sagging just _ever_ so slightly even as his mouth tightened.

Alonzo let out a shaky sigh of relief as soon as his friends were out of earshot. It certainly wouldn’t do to let them know that he hadn’t been _thinking_ about certain queens, as they had so readily bought – that he had indeed been ogling someone. Only, it wasn’t a queen. No, it was the tom that they had possibly seen sitting on the other side of the clearing, but had not really noticed – not even the brother of said tom.

And even if it was due to Munkustrap’s lurking out of sight of them all (hiding, some would call it), maybe it was a good thing that they hadn’t noticed him, Alonzo mused. After all, he didn’t want the others to suspect anything. And the fewer cats that knew about it, the better.

And as far as he knew, he was the only one that knew anyway, so that was fine. Absolutely fine. No one could ever say that it wasn’t fine.

(Even if inside he was aching just a little bit, because wouldn’t it be nice to let Munkustrap know that he stirred up feelings in Alonzo’s chest that no one had ever stirred up before?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evening, all. I do apologise for the lack of updates on this and SCBB - life's busy. This chapter was originally going to be a bit longer, but I decided to post this, because it was written and the other bit wasn't. But I do have school holidays coming up in a couple of weeks, so I should have time for writing again!
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated, as always.
> 
> ~Imaginative Kitty


	3. Bright Blue City Lights (And Laughter)

It was with no small amount of mirth that Alonzo witnessed Munkustrap giving Tugger a fairly severe talking-to just over a week later. It was quite a sight – what Tugger had against Munkustrap in height and cool, effortless sneers, Munkustrap more than made up for in broadness of shoulders and a scowl and tone so grim that many thought he might have been taking lessons from the old Protector. Though he had to conceal himself a bit too far from them to be able to pick up the exact words, he could guess as to what Tugger was under fire for.

Several of the toms had spent much of the days following the ogling incident ambushing Alonzo at inopportune moments to interrogate him further about his mysterious lady love. Meeting only curse words and eye rolls, most of them had given it up as a bad job after a couple of days. But not so Tugger. No, the curious cat had surpassed even his own usual inquisitive tendencies – he had seemed absolutely determined to find out precisely whom Alonzo had been thinking about on that day.

He had ambushed Alonzo for days. He had tailed Alonzo for hours at a time. Alonzo had even entered his den once, noticed Tugger settling himself a few metres away, and upon leaving it again after sleeping for several hours, had found Tugger in exactly the same position, eyes fixed upon him and smiling in a way that suggested that whatever he was up to was in no way going to benefit Alonzo.

However, Tugger had evidently reckoned without the inquisitive nature of his own younger brother when it came to _him_. And when Munkustrap saw behaviour he disapproved of – such as incessant inappropriate flirting, bullying, stalking, or incessant inappropriate flirting – he did a remarkably good job of ensuring the immediate ceasing of such behaviour (at least in the short term). Hence the loud – and very public – lecture that Tugger was now being forced to endure.

Quite a number of cats had managed to position themselves surreptitiously around the edges of the clearing, eager to watch Munkustrap taking Tugger down a peg. Alonzo caught Cassandra’s eye from where she was stretched out atop a rusty washing machine. He grinned at her, jerking his head towards the brothers, and she fought down a smirk as Tugger began to retaliate in earnest. Slipping towards Cassandra, Alonzo could barely contain his laughter as their yelling match took off, insults and complaints being flung through the air like bullets. Munkustrap’s face was livid, Tugger’s wore a scowl almost identical to Munkustrap’s, and both looked as though they would soon be going for each other’s throats.

But, regrettably, Alonzo knew they never would. Though insults between the sons of Deuteronomy were common, arguments never few and their worst verbal sparring matches – though some would call them insult contests – were legendary, there almost seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the pair never to come to blows physically. They would yell, and they would bare their teeth, and more than once Alonzo had seen Munkustrap clench his fists by his side, but neither had ever walked away with so much as a bruise.

Turning back to the shouting match, Alonzo was secretly pleased to see that Munkustrap had gained the upper hand with a particularly poisonous and entirely accurate comment about the state of Tugger’s mane. Cassandra was openly chuckling as a scarlet-faced Tugger struggled for words in a way only Munkustrap could induce.

“You little – little – little!” he spat, shooting one last dirty look at Munkustrap before storming off in the other direction, growling under his breath as his paws started to stroke his mane protectively. Munkustrap only deigned to roll his eyes in his brother’s direction, before shaking his head and looking up. He froze a little as the faces of half the junkyard inhabitants stared back at him, most of them struggling to keep in their laughter and a few not even trying. Ears going red, Munkustrap drew in a deep breath before walking out of the clearing slightly more quickly than was strictly necessary.

A buzz of chatter filled the air as Munkustrap disappeared from view, the odd peal of laughter ringing through the clearing and onto the surrounding junkpiles. Alonzo finally lowered his paws from his mouth and indulged in a little sniggering of his own – while it was nice to see Tugger publicly humiliated, which he supposed was probably something that didn’t happen nearly often enough, it was also fairly entertaining to see Munkustrap get so flustered. And it sent little shivers running up his spine when Munkustrap’s ears went red like that – but that wasn’t something anyone else needed to bother themselves about.

“Oh, I love seeing them like that,” Cassandra said lazily at his side. Alonzo shook himself out of his thoughts and turned to look at her, smiling.

“Arguing, you mean?”

“Arguing? If you like,” she shrugged, tilting her head towards him with a distant expression. “Behaving like ordinary siblings, I’d put it.”

“And what would you know?” Alonzo asked mildly. “Thought you didn’t have any.”

“I don’t,” Cassandra said contemplatively. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Lonz! I’m perfectly capable of observing familial relationships and knowing if they’re normal or not.”

“And those two aren’t normal? Considering the fact that you would also have been observing Plato and –”

“They’re a special case,” Cassandra interrupted primly. “Oh, think about it, Lonz,” she continued, leaning closer in towards him. “Those two are just – well, Munkustrap never sleeps and yet he manages to function abnormally well, and Tugger – how he has the _audacity_ to flirt with the _kittens_ , I just don’t –”

“You’re not interested in him?” Alonzo asked, frowning. “Thought he’d be your type.”

Cassandra let out a short laugh. “My type? Not likely – do you actually think I’d like someone who goes around with his eye on five queens at a time?”

“I don’t know,” Alonzo said, slouching back against the junkpile. “Which toms _do_ you like?”

Cassandra’s whole demeanour changed with his question. She sat up, ears perked, and she took on a very coy expression, a mysterious smile lighting up her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she purred, tilting her chin down and staring him straight in the eye.

Alonzo was mildly confused at her sudden change in behaviour.

He was just going to question her on it, when he heard a voice calling from the other side of the clearing.

“Cassandra! Cassandra!”

He looked over to see Bombalurina staring intently at Cassandra, and jerking her head pointedly when she had caught Cassandra’s eye.

“What’s that all about?” Alonzo asked as Cassandra nodded to Bombalurina.

“Damage control,” Cassandra said nonchalantly, springing down to the ground lightly. “Making sure Tugger’s not in _too_ much of a state after… that.” She gestured vaguely towards where Munkustrap and Tugger had been arguing minutes before.

Alonzo gaped at her. “I thought you said you didn’t – you _just said_ –”

“Just said what?”

“I thought you didn’t like him!” Alonzo exclaimed, feeling utterly bewildered. Cassandra sighed.

“I wouldn’t go to bed with him if it meant he’d be thinking about half the other queens in the junkyard while we were there,” she said calmly. “But he’s not half bad company otherwise, and there’s no denying he’s nearly the most attractive tom in this junkyard.” Alonzo looked slightly bewildered.

“Nearly the most?”

“Well, think about it. Admetus and Mungojerrie and them are nothing special, the kittens are… kittens, and Munkustrap’s a looker, I won’t deny that, but Tugger is… Tugger,” she finished. “And I’d better be off, then.”

Alonzo was still feeling very confused by the abrupt changes of mood and opinion that had suddenly come upon her, but something stood out for him in her analysis of toms and their attractiveness. “Wait!”

Cassandra turned around, eyebrow raised. “Mm?”

“And me?” Cassandra looked him over with an appraising eye, and nodded.

“You’ll do.”

And then she was gone, and Alonzo slumped back into the junkpile, now utterly and completely bewildered by the conversation that had just occurred. He had never really understood queens, and he wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted too, either. They just didn’t make _sense_ half the time.

Shaking his head, he got to his feet and made to leave the clearing, passing by a little group of kitten queens on the way. Some of their conversation floated up to him as he passed, and he had to bite back a groan.

“Ohh… Tugger’s _really_ cute when he’s angry…”

* * *

It was quite by chance that Alonzo stumbled upon Munkustrap that night. And he quite literally stumbled, having not seen Munkustrap’s outstretched legs blocking the shortcut he was taking to his den at the back of the junkyard.

“Oi, watch it!” Munkustrap called irritably. “You could – oh. Hey, Al.” Alonzo had turned back to apologize, but Munkustrap waved him off mid-sentence. “What’re you doing here?” he asked.

“Shortcut – well, it’s not really,” Alonzo said, flicking his eyes back in the direction he had been going. “But it’s this way or going past Tugger’s or Bombalurina’s, and considering –”

“Say no more,” Munkustrap said quickly. “Wasn’t expecting you here, that’s all. Do you need to go?”

“I can leave if you want me to,” Alonzo said, shrugging. “But I don’t have anywhere I _need_ to be, so…” He found himself looking down at the path, which was beginning to look surprisingly comfortable.

“Take a seat,” Munkustrap said, gesturing vaguely towards the path. Alonzo sank down, crossing his legs on the way and resting his elbows on his knees.

“You alright after this afternoon?” he asked. Munkustrap tensed a little.

“I’m fine,” he said curtly. “It’s taken care of, and that’s that.”

Alonzo grinned. “And you got to berate your brother at the top of your lungs in front of half the junkyard in the process.”

“Shut up.”

Alonzo smiled still wider. “I didn’t know that it was in your job description to be a – what was it? ‘Prickly ball of fluff and no – ’”

“Oh, lay off it,” Munkustrap growled, sinking back into the junk pile behind him. “See, this is why I’ve been –” He cut off, frowning.

“Been what? Hiding?” Alonzo asked lightly, unfolding his legs and stretching out on his back. “Munk, a little humility’s good for you. Makes them think you’re normal.”

“I _am_ normal,” Munkustrap said coldly. “It’s – well, how normal is it to go around flaunting your overgrown fur just so that cats half your age swoon at your feet?”

“I dunno,” Alonzo said. “Maybe it’s just a different kind of normal.”

“Normal isn’t stalking out cats because you’re overly nosy and intrusive when it comes to someone else’s personal life.”

Alonzo sighed. “Munk, it wasn’t a big deal. Forget about it.”

“I –”

“ _Munkustrap_. Forget about it. I’m really not that bothered, honestly.”

Alonzo had turned to look above him, where stars were faintly speckled across the inky sky, dimmed by the lights of the busy city around them. In the secluded pathway, though, the bustle of cars and people and horns and a thousand other noises from the outside seemed to fade away, and all Alonzo could hear – or perhaps all he was listening to – was Munkustrap muttering under his breath, words like “stupid” and “doesn’t have the right” and “prissy, selfish little –”

Eventually Munkustrap’s mutterings died away as well, and neither of them spoke for a while. Alonzo’s eyes traced the sky, finding old patterns and stories within the stars that were so very far away, and yet seemed so achingly near. They were comforting, an endless world of memories that he had not thought about for a very long time, and could not recall straight away. It seemed sad, somehow.

Sad, and it was for reasons he couldn’t understand.

 From his side, he heard Munkustrap sigh, drawing his legs up. “Remember when we used to do this all the time?”

Alonzo glanced up at him from where he was lying, part of him still up in the night sky, among the constellations. “Do what?” he asked idly.

“Go out at night, watch the stars.” Munkustrap shrugged. “You know, when we were younger.”

Alonzo frowned, trying to recall the scene Munkustrap had set. Words floated through his mind, verse and silence and Munkustrap looking enchanting in his contemplation of the constellations. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to put the thoughts out of his head. “Err, vaguely… When did we last do it?”

“I –” Munkustrap faltered, frowning, and drew his knees in a little closer. “Huh. I can’t actually remember. Must’ve been before life got hard.”

Alonzo smiled, eyeing his friend. “Life’s not that bad yet,” he countered.

“I beg to differ on that,” Munkustrap said primly, looking decidedly away from Alonzo, who raised an eyebrow in response.

“And why? I can’t think of much that’s wrong with your life right now.”

Munkustrap gave Alonzo a look that clearly said he disagreed. “Really? I can think of plenty.”

Alonzo snorted, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Yeah, because there’s _so_ much wrong with your life right now. Everyone likes you, you’re the Protector and you’re not even three summers old yet, how bad can it be?”

“Not everyone,” Munkustrap contradicted.

“Not –” Alonzo stopped his sentence abruptly, let out a slightly irritated sigh, and began again. “Look, _he_ hasn’t shown his face round here since we kicked him out, and if you’re still embarrassed over your thing with Tugger today –”

“Oh, would you shut up about that?” Munkustrap snapped. Alonzo rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“Well, excuse _me_ for trying to lend you some moral support,” he said, dropping himself back to the ground and pointedly looking away from Munkustrap.

“Hate to tell you this, but your moral support is doing nothing whatever to boost my morale.”

“Knock it off with the fancy words, Munkus, you know I don’t like them.”

“I won’t cease uttering words that enrich and inform you in a more adequate fashion until that time upon which your vocabulary is extended and we can conduct conversations in language entirely akin to this.”

“Urgh! Shut up, shut up!”

Munkustrap laughed, shifting his feet out of reach from where Alonzo had attempted to swat them, prompting Alonzo to lean over too far in a second attempt and flop onto his front. This only elicited more laughter from the tabby, at which Alonzo sent a glare in his direction. Munkustrap didn’t seem to take any notice of it, too caught up in his amusement, and with a light-hearted growl Alonzo pulled himself up and launched himself at the other cat, paws flying to Munkustrap’s sensitive spots as he began to tickle him in earnest.

Their laughter rang out into the night – one breathless and pleading, the other crowing in triumph – and Alonzo couldn’t help but think, as Munkustrap wrestled his way out from under him, that he could get used to this. For this felt so very natural, so very _right_ , and he couldn’t see anything that would obstruct this picture of perfection he had created for himself.

But Alonzo wasn’t counting upon the forces of nature being at work, and the propensity the universe seemed to have for taking happy things – perfect things – and making them very wrong indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait - here's an extra-long chapter to make up for it! I hadn't even planned for this to be in the story, but it started off as a filler scene, and then... well. I got carried away writing Cassandra. Not sorry about that, though - she's a delight.
> 
> Also, for any NZ readers hailing from Marlborough or Wellington - hope you're okay after the earthquake (and aftershocks!) yesterday.
> 
> Feedback much appreciated!
> 
> ~Imaginative Kitty


	4. Spoken In Not So Cautious Tones

It might have had something to do with the intense heat; it might have had something to do with the oppressive humidity. It might even have had something to do with the name Munkustrap had given it when it had started the day before: a “heat wave”. Whatever the cause, Alonzo was overheated, sticky with sweat, and seriously regretting having ever left his den that day.

It was just past noon, judging by the position of the sun in the sky, so blue and clear it hurt to look at, and Alonzo was sprawled beneath the overhang he had sheltered from a storm under so many weeks ago, it seemed. The sunlight was creeping ever closer into his little patch of shade, and he was eyeing it unhappily, wondering how soon it would take for it to fully disrupt his small respite from the awful heat.

The clearing was all but deserted – most of the cats were either sleeping out the heat wave in their dens, or else had retreated to their humans’ houses during the night. Alonzo would have been in their number, but for his being on watch the previous night. Indeed, he had been planning to head back to his den as soon as he deemed it suitably light. But one thing had led to another, and he had ended up in just about the furthest possible place from his den by the time the sun was starting to climb in the sky.

And then he simply hadn’t been able to get further than the clearing before his tiredness and the steaming heat overcame him. He had recalled something Munkustrap had said the other day about Macavity and some kind of threatening rumour to do with him, and the possibility of needing to instil a day watch, and had decided that if for no other reason, that might be excuse enough for not moving from where he lay.

Then again, it was still horribly and uncomfortably hot, so that would probably suffice as an explanation.

His one small consolation was that he was not alone in his suffering. Mungojerrie had appeared in the clearing a couple of hours earlier, muttering about something that sounded rather like Rumpleteazer had thrown him out of their shared den. He had looked towards where Alonzo was sprawled under the overhang, but a glower had sent the younger cat towards the opposite side of the clearing – the pipe being unavailable as Mistoffelees’ tail was poking out of it somewhat. Now, Mungojerrie was hiding beneath an old cardboard box, occasionally squirming or letting out an indecipherable moan.

Alonzo sighed. What was the point in trying to convince himself to stay in the clearing when it was fairly obvious – to _him_ , at any rate – that absolutely nothing was going to happen? He suspected that even master criminals with personal vendettas against the tribe would be quite as affected by the oppressive heat as everyone else was, making any kind of day watch unnecessary. Which therefore meant that he ought to be free to go back to his den and the welcome reprieve from the heat it would provide.

With a groan and no small amount of effort, he pushed himself into a sitting position, clutching at his head instinctively as it pounded with the sudden shift in gravity, vision swimming before his eyes. Using the nearest junk pile for support, he staggered to his feet, and squeezed his eyes shut tight against the fresh bout of dizziness that overcame him.

A minute later, the dizziness still hadn’t fully abated itself, but the pounding sensation in his head had lessened, and when he tried walking, Alonzo found that he could manage it, more or less. Without so much as a backwards glance at Mungojerrie’s box or Mistoffelees’ tail – mainly because he suspected he might fall over if he tried turning his head – he made his way into the winding pathways that made up a fair portion of the junkyard. He bit back a whimper as he thought of how far removed from the main clearing his own den was, forgetting there was no one awake to hear him.

As he stumbled along a particularly narrow section of path he began to hear brief snatches of sound – faint snores from Plato’s den, some quiet murmurs from where Demeter and Bombalurina lived, and odd snatches of phrases that sounded like they might be someone talking in their sleep. Slightly detached from his surroundings due to the heat and blinding sunlight, Alonzo kept moving, leaving the quiet noises behind him.

After just a few minutes, he came across Cassandra’s den, which he knew would be unoccupied, as the queen in question was one of the few that had left for a human owner’s. Supposing that an empty den was as good a place as any to shelter, even if the sun was filtering inside far more than he would have liked, Alonzo was about to enter it. He stopped, however, when he noticed the sole other den in that stretch of pathway. Slightly bigger, it did house another cat, but its entrance was pointed away from the sun, and Alonzo knew from previous visits that it was usually fairly dark inside. Dark, and _cool_.

And so he changed his course, walked a few steps further, and finally entered the other den, sinking to the ground as his legs gave out from under him. He closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to envelop him, bright imprints on his retina gradually fading as the heat dissipated. He leaned back against the wall of the den – less comfortable than his own, but who was he to be picky? – and stretched his legs out in front of him. As he did so, however, he felt them brush against something.

He frowned, and opened his eyes a fraction. The silhouette of another – very familiar – cat was visible in the darkness of the den, and he closed his eyes again, relaxing back. This would be fine. Just fine. If only…

“Of course you’d be asleep _now_.”

The words had come out of nowhere; he hadn’t been thinking, he hadn’t been wakeful. Yet there they were, and he froze in tense anticipation, waiting for Munkustrap to snap at him. But there was no sound from the other tom save his breathing, slow and melodic, and Alonzo let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding.

He had never really seen Munkustrap sleep much in the past, what with living separately and patrol shifts and the fact that Munkustrap didn’t seem to go to sleep very much on any given night (or day, for that matter). And now that he was barely two feet from the other, Alonzo couldn’t help but feel oddly relaxed. It was soothing, listening to Munkustrap breathing, an occasional muted whine eking itself out from his throat.

It felt familiar, in a way that Alonzo could not quite place – perhaps as a distant memory from a time long ago and long forgotten. Munkustrap’s breathing stirred up little scraps of a life he thought he might have forgotten – alleys dark and cool as his friend’s den, rough fur steadily rising and falling beneath him in sleep. A voice singing to him, hoarse and deep and warm, some strange kind of blissful shelter from the night’s chill.

And then a harsher, higher voice intruded, one that spoke in an unfamiliar tongue and ripped him from his reverie. He gasped, staring wildly around into the darkness. But no figure emerged to take him away or abandon him once again, and he drew his legs in closer to his body, leaning his head against them as he tried to stem the trickle of memories that were rapidly trying to bring themselves to the surface of his mind.

He had not thought about his parents in a very long time. He had been angry at them for weeks after his father had left him at the junkyard with nary a word of warning, and had sworn to forget about them – and indeed, he had all but forgotten their faces. Less so their deeds, unfortunately. He had wondered for several months after they had left him why they had done it. Sometimes he had, in a youthful fit of fantasy, tried to think of them in a good light – perhaps they had been in some kind of terrible danger, and would return for him, heroic, once it had passed. Other days he had blotted out his mother and fervently hoped that his father would see sense – leave her and come back for him.

On his worst days – the days when Plato had been especially horrible and Munkustrap had been off with Tugger and he hadn’t had anyone – he had entertained the worst thought of all, the one that had stuck in his head and filled him with anger and an aching despondency. The thought that they had left him because they didn’t want him anymore.

Because they didn’t love him anymore.

A growl rose in his throat without warning, and then he released a strangled cry, a scream or a snarl or a sob he did not know. He scowled as he tried to tamper down the hot tears stinging at his eyes. It was irrational, completely irrational. He had left those thoughts behind him as he had left behind childhood, it couldn’t be otherwise. He shouldn’t be dwelling on the cats that had brought him into the world – parents in name, maybe, but they had ceased being his parents when they had turned their backs on him and left him to fend for himself in a world that was altogether too large and too cruel.

“You had to leave me, didn’t you?” he hissed, gripping his knees a little tighter. “Didn’t you! Well, look where it got me!”

There was silence, his shouts reverberating in the dim light.

“You’d better not leave.” The words came out loud and harsh, but Alonzo spared little thought for the slumbering state of his friend, so great was his upset. “You’d better not leave, or I swear I’ll hunt you down, wherever you’re hiding, and I’ll make you rue the day –” He stopped speaking, and pressed a shaking paw to his mouth, swallowing back a sob.

“Sorry,” he muttered, once he had regained some semblance of composure. His shoulders slumped forwards as he looked to Munkustrap’s prone form, tranquil in the dark. “I didn’t mean – not you – but I guess you wouldn’t understand. I mean…” He sighed, lost for words.

“You’ve always been around for me, you know,” Alonzo said quietly. “It’s nice, having someone who doesn’t leave you out on the street… out in the dark… You’ve never left me. And I – I really like it.” He paused, waiting for any reaction from Munkustrap. There was none.

“I really like you.”

The words hung in the air between them, and seeing no response from Munkustrap, Alonzo found that something within him felt like carrying on. So he did.

“There’s something about you. Something that’s different to everyone else here, and it’s good. It’s always been there, I think, it’s just now…” He took in a breath to steady himself. “I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at some of the others. The queens. And I guess that’s fine – I mean, Demi and Rina are nice enough, I’m not saying they’re not, I just – I don’t know if they see just how extraordinary you are.” He smiled at Munkustrap’s sleeping form, and wondered if the tabby would be smiling back at him if he could hear his words. Would he?

“The thing is, you’re… you. And I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want you, if you’ll have me. Would you mind that? Would you mind being with me?

“Would you mind that I love you?”

But no sooner had the quiet words left his mouth than they were lost in a horrifying sound – Munkustrap had turned his head, and had let out a throaty sigh that most definitely did not ring true of sleep.

“Mmm… wha’? Who’s there?” he asked, sleep clogging his voice. Alonzo froze, throat tight.

“It – it’s me,” he said hesitantly. “Lonz.”

“Al?” Munkustrap said, pushing himself onto his knees and yawning. “Oh. Afternoon. What’re you doing here?”

“It’s blimming hot outside, that’s what, and I didn’t fancy being melted,” Alonzo said tersely, mind still reeling from his words. Had Munkustrap heard? He couldn’t have, surely.

“There’s your own den,” Munkustrap countered, his reply lacking any real irritation – possibly from an amiable stance, also possibly due to his not having fully woken up.

“From the clearing to my den in this weather?” Alonzo shot back. “I’d like to see you try.”

And then Munkustrap smiled; a genuine, exasperated-but-really-amused Munkustrap smile. “Eh, fair enough,” he said, getting to his feet. “Oh, don’t get up for my sake,” he said quickly, as Alonzo shifted in order to rise. “Stay here, it’s fine. I won’t be able to get back to sleep now, so I might as well head out and take watch, Jerrie won’t mind.”

Alonzo nodded vaguely, still lost in the throes of his earlier soliloquy. His stomach started to clench, and his throat was starting to feel tight – with fear, and to his horror, from tears.

“Al?” Munkustrap said, looking at him with wide eyes. He sunk to the ground in front of Alonzo, concern etched in his face. “Al, what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to be sick.”

Alonzo shook his head, trying to swallow down the burning in his throat. “’s nothing,” he muttered, not meeting Munkustrap’s eye. “Just the heat – it’s giving me a headache.” Which was true, even if it was not entirely from the weather.

Munkustrap nodded understandingly, reaching out a paw to squeeze Alonzo’s shoulder. “Stay here. Get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on things – it ought to cool down soon.” He rose again, and left his den, glancing back at Alonzo on his way out.

Alonzo let out a shaky sigh, which caught and nearly turned into a sob. He heard Munkustrap’s footsteps gradually fade away, and when they were no longer audible he sank down, shutting his eyes and praying for sleep to take him to an oblivion where he didn’t say stupid things at risky times and thereby put a perfectly good friendship on the line – because that was all they were, wasn’t it? Friends. Nothing more. Never more.

Nothing…

Never…

.

.

_The one before him is cold and unfeeling, and he cows before the other, harsher and more terrible and so much more beautiful than he has ever been._

_“You’re obsessed with me. You never leave me alone.”_

_The voice is angry, full of hatred and spite, and he desperately thinks that no, he is not. He is in love, reckless, senseless love, and he wants the world to know. But the world cannot see it. That, or else it truly is pure hate, and he was a fool not to see it earlier. But what a fool, to be blinded so by another._

_“I want you to stay away from me. I don’t feel comfortable around you, and I want you to stay away from me for a while. A long time.”_

_All the breath leaves him. He cannot think. He cannot respond._

_The other leaves without even a backward glance, and he stares after him. He cannot say anything, for what is there to say? What could he say to such wanton hate, words like bile, bitter on the tongue? Is there anything that would sway the other, any words that would call him back so he can beg forgiveness for a crime he did not commit?_

_No, he realises. The other has too much hold over him, even now. He will do anything, anything to keep him safe and hale. So he cannot follow. And he knows the other will never listen to him now._

_He cannot hide his tears, though, as he watches his best friend walk away, never looking back. Surely he is not silent in his despair, but it seems he might as well be. Yet he cannot hide the hurt, the betrayal…_

_And, worst of all, he cannot hide from his own love, and his own heart which has just been shattered into infinite pieces that can never be put back together._

_He sinks to his knees, and he weeps._

_And then the other has appeared, beautiful and terrible, and flings him away, and he is falling and falling and he knows the bottom is beneath him –_

.

.

Alonzo woke with a start as he felt himself jolt downwards. He lay on the ground in Munkustrap’s den for several seconds, panting and trying to swallow down his desperate fear. His dream could not be true. It could not.

Could it?

Icy fear clung to him, sinking deeper and deeper within his stomach, and he recalled Munkustrap’s words from earlier. He felt like being sick. It would be easier by far to be sick than to feel this awful, all-consuming terror.

Would it be worth trying to pursue what he felt? Would it be worth it if there was nothing for him there? If it would only hurt him?

If it would only hurt Munkustrap?

In a daze he slipped out of Munkustrap’s den. The heat was dry and burning on him, but he barely noticed it in his upset. He all but ran down the paths leading to his own den, tears leaving salty tracks on his cheeks and gasping sobs echoing hollowly where no one could hear them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise - early update! I've just finished my mock exams, and decided to get the next chapter of FCT done to celebrate. So here it is - Alonzo angst. My favourite kind. Overheated and overheated emotions - but it gets better next (kind of)! (But only for a bit.)
> 
> Also, I have done a fair bit of referencing to Alonzo's childhood - and that's something I'm intending to address in its own fic. Can't make any promises as to when, but I want to do it someday. And in keeping with that, I'm going to be making a small amendment to a couple of the earlier chapters of this fic - nothing major, just a name deletion that won't really affect the story.
> 
> As always, feedback much appreciated.


	5. Time for Some Girl Talk

Alonzo was awakened by a shove in the ribs that turned him onto his side. His eyes jerked open, and he scrambled to face the entrance of his den. When he saw none other than Admetus crouching by him, looking very pleased with himself, he swatted Admetus' leg and rolled back over to face the opposite wall, scowling.

He could almost hear Admetus rolling his eyes.

"Oi, wake up!"

Alonzo gritted his teeth. " _No_. Go  _away_ , Admetus."

"Get up, Lonz. I'm serious," Admetus said. Alonzo screwed up his eyes to try to get rid of the mental picture of what Admetus' face would be looking like – expectant, big eyes, and far too earnest and kittenish to resist giving in to. It was too early by his judging for giving in to demands dealt out by highly determined cats, and he  _wasn't_  going to get up while it was still this  _hot_.

"Very funny.  _Go away_."

"No, seriously, you need to get up," Admetus said, his voice taking on an edgier tone. "Cassandra's been on my arse all morning about finding you."

"She can bloody well find me herself if she's so keen," Alonzo growled, wondering if he should hit Admetus again. It might make him go away. Then again, knowing Admetus, it probably wouldn't.

"No, she  _told_  me to find you for her."

"What? Why? Ignore her, it's perfectly easy."

"I don't know why she wants you, but – Lonz, you can't just  _ignore_  Cassa! She looked all business – you know how she does?"

"So?" Alonzo snapped.  _And don't call her Cassa!_  he added mentally.

" _So_ , get your arse up before I have to drag you. Come  _on!_ "

"No!"

Admetus sighed, and Alonzo heard him get up and leave his den. He smiled grimly and shifted onto his back again.

And then he heard a clicking sound from just outside.

"Hi, Metus! Hey, Alonzo! Metus, whatcha want me to do?"

"I'd be much obliged if you'd get his lazy behind up, kit."

Alonzo felt sorely tempted to leave his den of his own accord right that second, if only to strangle Admetus for being so damn good at blackmail (or being charming. Alonzo had never bothered to differentiate between the two.)

Admetus, among other things, had the very annoying habit of being one of the most persuasive cats Alonzo had ever met. This was due in part to his favoured tactic of catching one unawares and then proceeding to pester them with all the energy of an eight-month-old kitten until they gave in.

He had also managed to charm all of the actual eight-month-old kittens (with the exception of Tumblebrutus) into being at his beck and call if they happened to be in the vicinity. With merely a click of his fingers, he could summon whichever one seemed most appropriate to aid in his persuasions, and this particular morning, it turned out to be Jemima. Jemima not only thought very logically and was very good at persuasively talking to grumpy adult cats, but could also cry on demand if you happened to refuse her any wish or whim. She would subsequently go running to her mother, who would promptly bring hell down on the offender in the form of a sharp scolding and knitting lessons.

Naturally, between getting up and snapping at a kitten with a scary mother, the former was the lesser of two evils, as Admetus knew only too well. Alonzo growled. Admetus was going to  _pay_  for this.

"I'm up, I'm up," Alonzo called, pushing himself up and trying to ignore the headrush that had come as a result. From outside he could hear a slap that sounded suspiciously like a high-five, and then a light set of footsteps bounding away.

Admetus re-entered his den a few seconds later, and leaned against the entranceway. Alonzo glared at him, which elicited a smug grin from Admetus.

"About time you woke up. You dry out in the heat or what?"

"Something like that. Why?" Alonzo asked, looking at Admetus sceptically.

"You've been asleep for a day and a half, Lonz," Admetus said, examining his claws. "Care to explain?"

"Correction – a day and a half? Are you serious?"

"Quite."

"You're not messing with me, are you?"

"Nope."

"You don't know that I've been asleep. I could've been doing other things."

"I came in fifteen times yesterday," Admetus said, raising an eyebrow. "You were asleep for all of them. Again, care to explain?"

Alonzo was caught off guard for several seconds – he had forgotten just how  _strange_  Admetus could be.

"Everlasting  _Cat_ … Why didn't you wake me up?" he demanded.

Admetus shrugged. "I was going to by the eighth time, but Straps said to leave you alone. Now get up, or I'll get someone to help me drag you out of here. Do you want that?"

Alonzo stood up very deliberately, and walked over to Admetus, clenching his fists as he went. His intent on taking his revenge on Admetus was thwarted, however, when Admetus grabbed him once he was close, shoved him around, and began to clean the fur on the back of his head.

"Metus! Stop that!"

"Your fur's a mess," Admetus said, tugging Alonzo around again and down to lick down the fur sticking up between his ears. "Honestly, when'd you last clean it?"

"None of your business," Alonzo replied stiffly. His desire to hit Admetus was growing stronger by the second, but general communal cleaning protocol dictated that he let Admetus finish before causing him bodily harm. His one small mercy was that Admetus did his work very briskly and paid little attention to how thorough he was with his cleaning.

"There," Admetus said, rapidly brushing down Alonzo's back. "All done, off you go."

Alonzo let out a very long sigh through his nose. He then jabbed his elbow back, and was rewarded with a loud groan from Admetus.

"That for –"

"Yep."

"And –"

"That too."

"Right," Admetus wheezed, clutching his stomach. "Cassa's over in the east side."

Alonzo nodded and left his den, bounding up to take the shorter path over the junkpiles. He paused when another thought struck him, and leaned over the entrance to his den.

"Admetus?"

The other cat looked up from where he was still massaging his stomach. "Mm?"

"D'you know where Munkus is?" Alonzo asked, trying his hardest to look disinterested as he hung upside down.

Admetus frowned. "Straps? Er… I think he's gone off to the vicarage wall."

Something tight in Alonzo's chest eased. "Right. He say how long he'd be there for?"

"Nah, but from the look on his face, I'd say he's gonna be there a while," Admetus said. He straightened up at last and looked intently at Alonzo. "Did you need him or something?"

"No, not really," Alonzo said, flipping himself back upright and bounding away from his den. Admetus was left standing there, eyes narrowed after Alonzo's departing figure.

"Hm."

* * *

It had taken Alonzo nearly half an hour of searching before he finally came across his quarry. Cassandra was stretched out atop the washing machine at the far end of the clearing, her eyes closed and a contented look on her face. Rays of bright sunlight settled and reflected off her sleek fur, and Alonzo felt a twinge of resentment that no one had come to wake  _her_  up yet.

He crept closer to her. Maybe he could upend the washing machine. No, bad idea. She might get squashed. Alright, maybe he could just shove her over the side –

"You took your time," Cassandra said. Alonzo paused in his plotting, confused; she hadn't even opened her eyes, and he was downwind to boot.

"I was woken up intrusively after having no plans to get up today, happy?" He didn't know where the words had come from, but Cassandra's very presence seemed to demand a response.

"Doesn't matter," she replied, turning to face him with a coy smile on her face and opening her eyes at last. "I like irregularity, it's much more interesting."

Alonzo wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to that, so he pushed on like he hadn't heard her. "You wanted – Metus said you were looking for me."

"Yes," Cassandra said. She arched her back off her perch, her shoulders and vertebrae clicking dully as she stretched. Alonzo winced at the sound. "And here you are."

Her delaying was starting to irritate him. "Yes. So?"

Cassandra tilted her head, eyes moving up and down his body. Her gaze was very calculating, and so direct that Alonzo felt uncomfortable before even a few seconds had elapsed. There was something very odd in the way she was looking at him – like he was some new delicacy she couldn't decide whether to sample or not.

"Tugger's the second-most desirable tom in the junkyard. I do believe I've told you that before."

Alonzo frowned, confused. "Yeah, you have. What's your point?"

"I like toms with… intentions that are clear.  _Very_  clear," Cassandra said, leaning back on her elbows. Her eyes were alight, and there was something in her smile that Alonzo didn't like. It made him feel as though she wanted something big from him.

"Okay…"

"You know, relationships work best if there are no secrets. None at all. Don't you think?"

Alonzo was now completely lost as to what Cassandra wanted from him. "Um, sure. Sorry, what are you talking about, again?"

Cassandra slipped off the washing machine and drew herself upright, sending a knowing smile back at Alonzo. "I'll be in my den when you're ready. There's a lot I want to say. Especially to you."

Alonzo just stared at her, and she turned around. As she left the clearing, he could hear her calling back to him. "Just take as long as you need – I've got all the time in the world."

It took several seconds for Alonzo to realise that Cassandra had indeed gone, and by the time he had leapt down to the ground and hurried to the mouth of the pathway she had gone down, she had vanished from sight.

"Why is she going away."

Alonzo gave a start, and turned to see Rum Tum Tugger lounging on the TSE1 behind him, looking distinctly unimpressed.

"I said," Tugger repeated, staring fixedly at Alonzo, " _why_  is she going away?"

Alonzo was still trying to get his mind out of the panic mode it had entered after Tugger's unexpected appearance, and it was several seconds before he was able to think enough to for a coherent answer.

"She wanted to leave?" he said hesitantly. Judging by the look Tugger gave him in response, his answer hadn't been adequate.

"Cassandra is – and I'm sure darling Rina will excuse me for saying this – one of the two hottest queens in this junkyard, and quite frankly she's more our age which makes her slightly hotter. You don't just let someone that hot  _leave_ ," Tugger said, folding his arms and leaning back. "Explain."

It took Alonzo several tries before he was able to think past Tugger's incomprehensible statement and formulate an answer.

"I… she wasn't making any sense!" he blurted out.

"I'm sure she was," Tugger said coolly, eyes still fixed on Alonzo in a steely glare. "She was talking, and you were responding, so clearly she was making sense."

"No, she wasn't!" Alonzo exclaimed, his shoulders tensing. "She – I – she was – I don't know what she meant!"

Tugger frowned, and leaned forwards to perch his arms on his knees, drawn up on the boot of the car.

"Tell me what she did," he said, his eyes glinting.

Alonzo furrowed his brow, trying to recall anything that had stood out from his very odd conversation with Cassandra. "She, uh… she said something about you. And some stuff about intentions and secrets. And she told me to come to her den – Tugger, do you ever get queens looking at you strangely?"

"What kind of strange?" Tugger asked. His voice was calm, but his face was animated, eyes looking almost eerie with how wide they had become.

Alonzo thought for a second. "Like she wanted to – this sounds so strange – like I was something she wanted to eat."

At these words, Tugger's face lit up into an expression so gleeful that Alonzo felt a surge of terror at it.

"Yes! Finally!" he yelled, leaping to his feet and jumping down from the TSE1. Tugger grabbed Alonzo's paw and pulled him along as he raced out of the clearing. "C'mon, we've got so much to  _do!_ "

"Agh! Tugger! Where in Bast's name – let go of me!" Alonzo yelped. "What are you  _doing?_ "

Tugger turned his face to Alonzo, and the look of elation on it startled him.

"Alonzo, my friend, I do believe it is time for some girl talk."

* * *

One girl talk later, and Alonzo had decided that queens were far too complicated a species to deal with any more.

"Lonz! Oi, Lonz, hold up!"

That didn't mean toms were any easier to deal with either, judging by how Alonzo's stomach plummeted at the words. Fearful bile churned in his stomach as he caught Munkustrap's scent coming towards him, and he turned to see Munkustrap hopping down lightly from one of the junk piles further back on the pathway.

"I've been looking for you," Munkustrap said, sauntering up to Alonzo's side and walking alongside him. "Your headache better? You left my den before I got back the other day."

"Oh," Alonzo said, trying to avoid catching Munkustrap's eye. "Yeah, I'm… I'm fine." He paused, thinking how best to change the topic. "How was – Metus said you'd gone to see Deuteronomy." Munkustrap had been grinning, but his face dropped into a scowl at the mention of his father.

"Right. So, I went to see Dad this morning 'cause he sent a message to me late yesterday, and you aren't going to believe this – he wants to send someone over to that tribe  _again_. I told him it's no use, but he's not listening, and now he's told me to get someone who can go there in the next week or so. You're off the hook, obviously, but I don't know who else would want to do it now I know Ranian's there – d'you reckon I'd be able to wrangle Tugger into it?"

Munkustrap's rant washed over Alonzo in a haze, and dimly he recalled that same voice low and icy, sending him away forever in a dreamworld. Something in his panicking mind told him to flee, and excuses began to build up in his mouth.

"Lonz?" Munkustrap's face was relaxed, eyebrow twitched up, and Alonzo remembered that Munkustrap knew nothing. It just had to stay that way, that was all.

"Listen, Munk, I – I really have to be somewhere –"

But Alonzo was interrupted by sounds ringing out through the junkyard. Pounding feet. Snarls. Screaming.

"What's that?" Munkustrap asked, ears suddenly pricked as his body tensed. His transition from exasperated friend to alert Protector was seamless, and Alonzo found himself swallowing down fear. Guilt. Could he really have dreamt that this same cat could have cold fire in his bright eyes, or could spit out words sharp and poisonous enough to kill?

"Straps? Straps!"

Admetus was running towards them, Electra close on his heels. Both looked terrified, and as they sprinted closer, Admetus called out to them again, his voice panicked.

"It's Macavity – his henchcats are nearly at the junkyard!"

Munkustrap was a blur. In an instant, he had sprung around and began sprinting in the direction Admetus had come. Alonzo raced after him. Munkustrap was shouting instructions back to Admetus, but Alonzo barely registered them. The only thing he could comprehend was that Macavity, notorious exile of the junkyard and almost unheard of for nearly two years, had returned.

_And he could hurt any of them. He could hurt Munkustrap._

Munkustrap was just a flash of silver ahead now, and Alonzo ran even faster.


	6. What It Is (What It Isn't)

The din and blood-scent of fighting were overpowering as Alonzo sprinted around the final path towards the main clearing. He saw several figures upon the junkpiles nearby, but ignored them as he ran past them into the midst of where the fighting was. As he rounded the corner, however, he stopped dead in his tracks. Time seemed to slow for one terrifying second. Because Alonzo had been expecting a fight. But nothing,  _nothing_ like this.

Macavity’s exile had led to an empire.

That was just judging by the sheer multitudes of cats that had invaded the junkyard. Most were scrawny, wild looking specimens, though some were big brutes that could only have been hired for their sheer bulk and intimidating presence. Everywhere Alonzo looked there was black fur – a strange, unnatural looking black.

And within the black masses were his friends, fiercely defending the home they loved.

With a screech that transformed into a mad cackle, one of the henchcats dropped down on Alonzo from above. He collapsed under the weight of the cat, but before he could regain his feet and retaliate, the cat had been grabbed by a powerful paw and thrown across the clearing.

“You good?” Plato called, his voice raised above the din as he hoisted Alonzo to his feet with one paw, the other felling a second henchcat.

“I’m good,” Alonzo panted. “Behind you!”

And as Plato turned to deal with his next unfortunate opponent, Alonzo ducked a swipe from another cat and began to fight in earnest.

The cats were relentless, but Alonzo had better stamina than most in the junkyard; though he often got jibes about how skinny he was, it didn’t matter to him – muscles or no muscles, whoever lasted the longest could win. The henchcats were vicious on the attack, but many lost their vigour after only a few swipes, and he began to leave a trail of stunned black cats in his wake.

Closest to him still was Plato, who was taking nearly as many hits as he delivered, and was starting to bleed from the deeper scratches on his arms and torso. Unlike his opponents, however, Plato stayed standing. Half the cats he had fought had been thrown down within seconds as though they were made of little more than scraggly fur, and none of the rest had lasted more than a minute against him.

In the middle of the clearing, Munkustrap was fighting back to back with Bombalurina, and the duo were a blur of scarlet and silver as they dispatched henchcat after henchcat. Munkustrap’s teeth were bared, and he looked scarily focused as he fought. Bombalurina’s eyes were wild, and her opponents were meeting what looked to be unnecessary painful ends. She seemed almost savage; a far cry from the charming, alluring queen that usually resided within the scarlet fur.

Keeping tabs on who was and wasn’t fighting was tricky – particularly as he himself was still being sieged by Macavity’s henches – but Alonzo had yet to glimpse either set of twins: the orange whirlwind that was Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, or the willowy, black-and-silver figures of Coricopat and Tantomile.

He did notice, though, that around the fringes of the clearing unengaged henchcats were beginning to collapse in little piles on the ground.

A pair of claws dug into Alonzo’s back and dragged down his spine. He yelped in pain and whirled around to knock the cat down. A gaggle of them exchanged glances and jumped into their comrade’s place, scrapping to get closer to him. He staggered backwards, trying to avoid them, and realised to his horror that in the scuffle he had become separated from Plato.

And all the other junkyard cats.

A high-pitched scream drew Alonzo’s attention, and as he knocked the cat in front of him down, he saw Mistoffelees curled up on the ground, dodging swipes from a pair of dim-looking henchcats. Alonzo barely had time to wonder what Mistoffelees was doing in the fighting when he caught Munkustrap’s eye through the masses, and saw the instant the Protector’s gaze fell upon the adolescent.

“Someone get him out of here!” Munkustrap yelled, ducking a blow.

Alonzo made to move to Mistoffelees’ aid, but a wall of henchcats sprung up before him.

_Damn it!_

But even as he fought tooth and claw to reach Mistoffelees, a small figure leapt off the surrounding piles, leaving a taller companion and a string of defeated would-be-ambushing henchcats behind her, and landed by the little tuxedo tom.

Demeter was all claws and snarls as she shoved Mistoffelees behind her, hissing at the henchcats that had been attacking him. With a swipe that caught the throat of one and knocked him into the other, Demeter grabbed Mistoffelees’ paw and pulled him out of the clearing. He stumbled as he struggled to keep up with her longer legs, and tiny sparkles flickered about his fur, damp with sweat. One second he was tripping over his feet between fallen henchcats, and the next there was a flash of multi-coloured light. In a rush of sparkles, both he and Demeter vanished.

It had all happened very suddenly, and Alonzo froze, trying to process what he had just seen. Impossible. _Impossible._ There was no way, _no way_ Mistoffelees could have done that sort of magic. Not when he could make little more than pretty sparkles most of the time.

Alonzo was not the only cat who had seen Mistoffelees vanish, and he was not the only one who had ceased fighting in bewilderment. But Alonzo took a moment too long to bring himself back to the fight, and his opponent took advantage of his momentary hesitation.

A fist connected with his forehead hard, and he stumbled backwards. A well-aimed kick behind his knees brought Alonzo down and jarred his head against the ground. Stunned, the din of the fighting faded, and he was helpless to block the blow the burly henchcat was about to land on him.

With a back-handed swipe to the henchcat’s face, Munkustrap was suddenly standing over him, claws out and bared in fighting stance. Alonzo had come back to himself enough to know that he ought to get away, and he scrambled backwards, the multitudes of fighters both friend and foe blurring and muddling in his eyes. In a dizzying rush of sound and spinning vision, Alonzo pushed himself to his feet and ran from the fighting, and the only thought pressing on his mind, far more than the desire to get away or the heaviness of a futile lust, was an overwhelming, sickening guilt at abandoning all his friends – his family – to the henchcats.

* * *

 There were no henchcats beyond the main clearing, but had there been a hundred in his way he wouldn’t have noticed. His head was spinning, and his vision was blurry, and as he pounded down the maze of paths a wave of nausea swept over him. He pressed a fist to his mouth, but the sensation rose too quickly in his throat. He half-collapsed to his knees as he retched onto the path, squeezing his eyes shut as his vision blurred. Never before had he felt this disoriented or ill after fighting.

He waited a minute after the urge to be sick again died down before pushing himself to his feet. He knew he had to get away, into the far reaches of the junkyard where no one would find him. That had always been his backup plan, and now seemed like a good time to put it to use. The scent of the henchcats was weaker out here, and the place was a maze. No one who didn’t know it could find him if he didn’t want to be found.

“But I don’t get _why_ –”

Except for that voice, maybe. Alonzo scanned the area around him in a panic, but couldn’t see anyone. _Get away get awaygetaway –_

“We’re on your side, I’ve already told you! How I can I possibly make that simpler for you?”

 _Mungojerrie. That’s where he went._ But why was his voice so heated? _Who’s he talking with?_

“You was fighting us!”

“Because if we don’t, the junkyard’s gonna think something’s up with _us!_ Look, tell Cav we’ll check in in a couple of weeks, but we have to keep our cover right now. Do you _understand?_ ”

 _So they’re both there,_ Alonzo thought as Teazer’s voice rose in volume. The other voice, though… No, he’d never heard that one before.

But there wasn’t time to think about it now. He had to keep going. He had to get away before he was found; before he became a liability to the junkyard cats.

But he had only run another few dozen metres when a fresh wave of dizziness washed over him, and he collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving. He closed his eyes tightly, breathing back the bile that had risen in his throat and trying to control shaking, restless limbs. When he opened them a minute later, his head spun less and his breaths, while still short and ragged, were loosening and easing the tightness in his chest. He no longer felt as though the fighting was reverberating within him, but he still felt sick to his stomach, and he wasn’t sure if he could stand.

Alonzo crawled over to a tall junkpile – Demeter’s favourite, if he wasn’t mistaken – and sank back against it. He closed his eyes again, and as the world stopped spinning he began to concentrate on his breathing. _Breathe in… and out… you’re a long way away, you’re safe and out… and in… and out…_ Calmer. The dizziness had started to dissipate again, and his stomach churned less fiercely. _And in…_

“I _said_ , what is your grudge? _Tell_ me. I can _help._ _Trust_ me.”

It wasn’t until his breaths began to hitch in onsetting panic that he realised he had stopped breathing. Because that voice was one he would never forget until the day he died, and unless he was disoriented so much that he could no longer separate reality from the demons in his mind…

Swallowing hard, he shifted as quietly as he could to the edge of the junk pile and turned his head to look beyond it.

The years of exile had changed the cat little. His ginger fur was still dusty, though he had let it grow out enough that it looked almost wild, matted with grime and what Alonzo hoped wasn’t blood. He was no longer the gangly youth he had been as a solitary tom just out of adolescence; his arms and shoulders had filled out, and scars laced his back. His bearing was the same as it had been those years ago, though – tall, proud, and completely, undeniably in control.

Alonzo hardly dared to breathe as he looked upon Macavity. So this was the Napoleon of Crime. This was the cat who instilled fear into the hearts of all those living in the city.

This was the cat who had made his first kill in this very clearing. He certainly looked the part now.

“Do you _question_ me? I _fail_ to see why you should, so I believe you should _answer_ my _question._ ”

Alonzo shivered. That voice was perhaps the thing that had changed least of all. Still deadly smooth, still with a cruel, terrifying edge. It had been the voice of torment as a kitten, bearer of insults and teller of lies. Even now, it wound itself around him and clung tightly. He felt himself begin to breathe in time with its cadence, and slowly it filled his mind, all other thoughts fading away into oblivion.

Another voice entered the haze. Another foul scent.

_“Sir? Sir! Half our lot are down, I think they want out! Should I –”_

_“Give the order to retreat. We’ve stayed too long. I’ll meet you back at the warehouse once I’ve cleared the bodies. And for Bast’s sake, take different routes this time.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

“We will _continue_ another time. Just _bear_ in mind what I have _told_ you. Do not forget.”

A faint pulse reverberated out from the clearing, gone within a second. Something within Alonzo seemed to jolt back into focus, and his breaths suddenly seemed very loud in the silence. Light footsteps echoed closer and closer.

And then another scent drifted to him on the breeze. Not foul but sweet, strong. Too close. Too familiar.

Too cherished.

_No, Munkustrap. I can’t let you get close to him. I won’t let him hurt you, not this time. I won’t run away from this._

_I can’t let him do that to you._

Alonzo’s legs shook, but they supported his weight as he stood. He took a deep breath, and stepped out onto the path to confront his foe.

Alonzo only saw Macavity’s face briefly. The eyes were sunken and dark, and the whole visage was very slightly twisted, otherworldly. He looked almost mad. And then there was a rush of ginger fur. A slash of pain.

Everything went black.


	7. The Indecisive In-Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note: there is some stuff discussed in this chapter which will make more sense if you read the author’s note at the end. It’s obscure headcanon history stuff, but I’d rather not clutter up the space up here, if you don’t mind.

His eyes were heavy, and the more he came to himself, the more everything ached. Mostly his head, but there was a strange heavy feeling lingering inside him.

Voices entered his consciousness. Agitated. Loud. Frustrated. Oh _Bast_ , what would they even be arguing about – and then he remembered the mad face, the wild ginger fur. The henchcats. The fight.

He made himself open his eyes. No one seemed to notice.

Munkustrap was talking, seated on the floor of the den. The winter meeting den, he realised after a few seconds. Very big; big enough to accommodate what looked like most of the cats his age, patching up each other’s injuries and discussing things. Amidst the quiet murmurings and mutterings, Munkustrap’s voice came into focus, and through half-closed eyes, he listened.

“…for one of them to report back to us, and then we can head out again.”

“And what… about… Demeter?” Bombalurina said, hissing through her teeth. She sat opposite Munkustrap, digging her claws into the thin mattress she sat on as Tugger licked clean the scratches on her back.

A flicker of upset crossed Munkustrap’s face. “Rina, I sent Jerrie and Teazer out to look for her and Mistoffelees. There’s nothing else we can –”

“Nothing else we can _do?_ ” Bombalurina said, her voice rising. She yelped as Tugger dragged his tongue over one of the larger wounds. “Tugger! That _hurts_ , Everlast damn it!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tugger snapped, his voice unusually tight. “Why don’t I just stop, and let it get infected, and you can see how much it hurts then?”

A snarl ripped out of Bombalurina’s throat, and she smacked the backs of her fingers down against Tugger’s thigh. He resumed cleaning her wounds, and she turned back to the other cats.

“Munkustrap.” It was Tantomile, standing tall and silent in the corner. “Why do you think Macavity came to the junkyard?” Her voice was soft and her eyes gentle. When she spoke, the other conversations quieted, and everyone turned – first towards her, then to Munkustrap.

Munkustrap shook his head, face solemn. “I really don’t know. I – I can’t think of anything he’d _want_ from here –”

“Might just want the place,” Bombalurina said, a bite to her words.

“No,” said Plato, scowling in the other corner with his arms crossed over his chest. “He wanted it, he’d have it by now. You see how many cats he brought with him? Coulda taken this place in half an hour, easy.”

Munkustrap nodded. “They retreated, Rina. There were enough of them to overwhelm us, and they had the upper hand, but they _left_. Whatever they wanted to do here, they must have gotten it done.”

The rage on Bombalurina’s face twisted and fell into shock. “Not – you don’t think they meant to get _Demeter_? What would they want with her?”

“I don’t know, Bombalurina,” Munkustrap said quietly. “I really don’t. But Mistoffelees is gone too, and I doubt they know about his powers, so they might not have taken them. _Either_ of them,” he added, catching her eye. She lowered her head.

It occurred to Alonzo that it mustn’t have been long since the battle ended. Everyone’s wounds looked fresh, and the things they were talking about… He wondered how long he’d been unconscious. An hour? Two? Less, more?

Plato let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, enough with that. Demeter’s missing. Mistoffelees is missing. That’s fine, we can deal with that. Bast, don’t you realise that Macavity just attacked us? He came here and set his henchcats on us. He invaded our home! Don’t you get that? What are we gonna _do_ about it?” As he spoke, and his voice got louder and more agitated, he opened his arms out. Alonzo’s stomach clenched at the sight of Plato’s exposed torso.

Gouges ran along the breadth of his chest, shallow but very wide. There were some deeper cuts that were bleeding a little, and several bite marks. Under his fur, the wounds looked savagely red, and much of the white in his fur had stained a coppery brown. Alonzo briefly recalled Plato throwing a henchcat or several across the clearing. He’d already been scratched then, but not nearly so badly.

Munkustrap’s face was composed and his voice even as he spoke. “We’re going to keep an eye out for him, because I wouldn’t put it past him to attack us again. We’re going to keep a watch, and we’re going to have plans ready for if he comes again. But we are _not_ going to provoke him, Plato.”

Plato’s face twisted into a murderous glare. “Nothing? We’re going to do _nothing_? Don’t you even _realise_ what – he just invaded us! There isn’t anything else we can do – we have to fight back! No,” he said, holding up a paw as Munkustrap started to speak. “I don’t care ifs he had other motives or some crap. He wanted a fight? He’s gonna get a fight, and I’m gonna give it to him, even if the rest of you don’t give a crap!”

“No – Plato!” Munkustrap stood and blocked Plato as the older cat stormed towards the entranceway. Plato hissed, hackles raised, and pushed at Munkustrap’s shoulder. It wasn’t a hard push; Munkustrap shouldn’t have even budged.

But upon the contact, Munkustrap doubled over, clutching his shoulder. His face crumpled in pain, and Alonzo could barely stop himself from trying to get up to help him. Tantomile moved to his side, supporting him and murmuring in his ear.

Now standing in the doorway, Plato didn’t look the least bit remorseful. His face was cold and angry as he stared down at Munkustrap.

Coricopat bared his teeth at Plato as he helped Tantomile lower Munkustrap back to the ground. “You out on a suicide mission or something?” His soft voice sounded strange in the harsh tone it had adopted. “Stop it. This is madness – you can’t do this, Plato. You’re going to get yourself killed if you go and fight Macavity, you know that?”

Plato’s face was steely. “I want revenge. You won’t understand.”

“Plato.” Tantomile had turned to look up at him – Alonzo couldn’t see her face. “Not now. We _need_ you to stay here until everyone’s accounted for. Think of your brothers. They need you here, don’t –”

“How _dare_ you.”

There was a sudden silence. It pressed down on the room, and through the haze in his mind, Alonzo’s gut dropped. She didn’t know, but Tantomile couldn’t have picked a worse thing to say.

Plato’s voice was like a shard of ice as he spoke. “This is _all_ about my brothers, you – don’t you dare – don’t you _dare_ –” His eyes widened, and he whipped around, sprinting off beyond what Alonzo could see.

Both Tantomile and Coricopat’s shoulders had gone very stiff, and Coricopat started to walk towards the exit. And then Cassandra was in front of him, holding him in place. Alonzo hadn’t even noticed that she was in the den.

“Don’t go after him,” Cassandra said, very quietly. “We’ll tell you about it later, but he won’t listen to anyone right now. It’s not worth it. We need to sort things out here first.”

Coricopat was very still, and Alonzo could see Cassandra’s jaw set the longer they stood there. It was only about a minute later that some of the tension left Coricopat’s shoulders, and Cassandra finally loosened her grip on him.

Alonzo drew his gaze away, and saw that just in front of him, Tugger was clutching Bombalurina’s paw very, very tightly. His head was pressed against her shoulder, and her other paw was gently rubbing his knee. _Of course,_ Alonzo thought. Plato wasn’t the only one who wanted revenge on Macavity.

He heard footsteps. Someone was running towards the den, bounding with light, quick steps. A few seconds later, Admetus appeared in the entrance. He looked unharmed, though his fur was tousled and dirty, and his face was completely serious. No, Alonzo realised. It wasn’t serious, exactly – Admetus looked a bit as though he were about to cry.

Munkustrap turned to face him, wincing as he jostled his shoulder a little. “Admetus, is everyone alright? Accounted for? Have you checked the borders?”

Admetus nodded. He trembled as he pulled himself taller. “Haven’t seen any henchcats, and I’ve been around twice. I – I checked on Jellylorum and the kittens. I’ve just come from there. They’re all there, and they’re fine – doesn’t sound like the henchcats found them. Lora was asking about old Gus and Asparagus –”

Munkustrap was wide-eyed, a look of horror spreading across his face. “Gus… Asparagus… Everlast, they’re at the theatre, they don’t _know_! Bast, we have to tell them, we have to find out if they’re okay, oh Bast, oh _Bast_ –”

“I can go,” Tantomile said quietly, sitting up a little straighter. “You’ll know how they are as soon as I arrive there, I promise.”

“You can’t go out on your –”

“I can take care of myself,” Tantomile said. She smiled a little at Munkustrap – she seemed to have recovered a little from Plato’s tirade. “They won’t notice me, I promise. I’m very good at keeping myself concealed. And if I’m out there, I can keep an eye out for Demeter and Mistoffelees, can’t I?”

Munkustrap looked very much as if he wanted to argue; but after a pause, he sighed, and pressed his paw against Tantomile’s. “Keep on your guard. And stay with Gus and Asparagus when you find them.”

Tantomile nodded. She kept looking at Munkustrap, and as Alonzo watched, Munkustrap’s face tightened a little.

“Admetus,” Tugger said. He’d lifted his head while Alonzo had been distracted, and he sat tall and straight. “Sit down. I’ll head out and keep watch for a bit.”

Admetus didn’t even protest. He nodded and moved so his back was against a wall of the den, then sank down to the ground. He brought his legs into his chest and clutched them tightly. He was trembling very hard.

Tugger rose to his feet then. He laid a paw on Bombalurina’s shoulder and stroked his thumb gently across it. With a nod to Munkustrap, he left the den.

Alonzo let his half-closed gaze drift away from Tugger’s retreating form. His eyes rested for a moment on Munkustrap, and his stomach twinged as he realised that the silver tom was clutching his foreleg to his chest. His shoulder had been hurt. Had that been when Munkustrap had defended him in the main clearing? Or after, when Alonzo had exposed himself to distract Macavity from Munkustrap’s scent? Had Macavity attacked Munkustrap anyway?

Forehead creased, he shifted his gaze from Munkustrap. It landed on Tantomile, and as he watched, her eyes flicked up and made contact with his.

 _Do you want me to let them know you’re awake?_ It was Tantomile’s voice in his head, soft and clear as though she’d just spoken to him from right beside him. Except she was on the other side of the den, and her mouth hadn’t moved at all.

Alonzo’s mouth went dry. What the… How was she… _NO._ Would she hear that?

Next to her, Coricopat’s mouth curled up into a faint smirk.

 _Oh, shut up, Cori. Ignore him, Alonzo. Please try and get some rest. Everything’s under control._ She glanced over to where Admetus was curled up on the floor and frowned slightly. _Mostly._

It didn’t feel like everything was under control. There was tension in the air, heavy and thick and ready to snap at a moment’s notice. An undercurrent of uncertainty had swept through the smartest and strongest and most level-headed of the junkyard, and it felt as though the slightest push would send any of them reeling, floundering and desperate and unable to see beyond their panic and fear.

And he wasn’t the smartest, nor the strongest nor level-headed nor even the bravest of those who resided in the junkyard. He was just scared; tired, sore, and so very, very scared. And everyone else was, too; he could see it in the set of their shoulders, hear it in their voices, their tense, terrified words.

But Tantomile had nodded at large to the occupants of the den and stepped out into the empty junkyard. So there wasn’t any point in voicing – or telecommunicating – his worries to her.

Alonzo’s eyes fell closed, and he let himself slip back into the painless oblivion of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Some backstory would be helpful here, wouldn’t it?
> 
> Plato, Admetus, Tumblebrutus and Pouncival are brothers in my stories, and Plato had a twin brother, August (short for Augustus). August was killed by Macavity about a year and a half prior to this story, and because of this Macavity was exiled from the junkyard. Now, this all happened several months before Tantomile and Coricopat came to the junkyard. No one really talks about it, and Tantomile isn’t one to pry into someone else’s mind without just cause. Usually. (Coricopat, on the other hand, eavesdrops like nobody’s business. Especially on Tantomile’s private conversations with other cats. He thinks it’s highly amusing.)
> 
> Also this chapter is kinda short and I wanted it to be longer, but this works as a chapter even if no plot happens. There’ll be more plot next chapter, and dear lord help me I want to wrap this up in another five chapters. Do you think I can do that before April? Or preferably before the fourteenth of February?


End file.
